Back in his dorm, Ron didn't rest immediately but started his meditation practice for the day.
Since becoming a Potions Apprentice, he has found that his perception of mental energy has become more acute.
Today's understanding of "rhythm" during physical training seems to offer a completely new perspective.
"If the 'Coronavirus Breathing Method' is imitating the laws of the sun..."
Ron opened the tattered book "Basic Meditation Method": "Then, could mental power also have its own specific operating rules?"
He carefully studied the basic rune in the book, which consisted of three arcs.
He used to just mechanically copy, but now he suddenly realized that the arrangement of these three arcs seemed to contain a certain rhythm.
With this idea in mind, he began to experiment with outlining the runes at different rhythms.
[Beginning with Basic Meditation]
When the first arc took shape in his mind, he was no longer in a hurry to complete it as before, but carefully felt the flow of spiritual energy.
What's amazing is that whenever a part of the rune resonates with the fluctuations of mental energy, the arc becomes unusually stable.
"I see." Ron finally understood.
This rune is not just a tool for guiding spiritual energy; its shape itself imitates the most natural flow of spiritual energy.
[Triggering Special Effect: Mental Rhythm - Slightly increases the effectiveness of this meditation]
[Basic Meditation Experience Points +1]
[Basic Meditation Experience Points +1]
[Basic Meditation Experience Points +1]
[You have reached your maximum training time for today; a rest is recommended.]
The experience points gained were significantly more than usual, confirming that his idea was correct.
Just as Ron was about to continue meditating, a commotion suddenly broke out outside the door.
"Another person got promoted?" He got up and opened the door, just in time to see a familiar figure rushing past.
That was Locke, who had arrived in the Black Mist Jungle at the same time as him, and was now running excitedly toward the testing hall.
"It seems that a candidate apprentice has made a breakthrough."
Andrei lived not far from him, and having obviously heard the commotion, he also came out of his room.
"This situation has become more and more common recently. The closer the assessment deadline gets, the more likely people are to take a desperate gamble."
Ron understood what he meant: as time goes on, those who see no hope often choose to take risky actions.
—They either take risks to try dangerous forbidden spells or buy some "special potions" of dubious origin.
"Let's go and take a look. Everyone's success story is worth learning from."
Andrei waited for Ron to lock the door: "Maybe we can figure something out."
The testing hall is located in the center of the dormitory area, where there is a specially made crystal ball that can measure the strength of mental energy.
When the two arrived, a large number of people had already gathered in the hall.
Locke was standing in front of the crystal ball, his face pale but his eyes excited.
"It's started," someone whispered.
Locke placed his hand on the crystal ball, and dark red mist immediately surged within it.
A moment later, a fairly bright symbol condensed in the mist, but it looked extremely unstable, flickering like a broken light bulb.
"It really met the standard!" A chorus of exclamations arose from the surrounding crowd.
This is indeed surprising, considering that Locke, like Ron, was originally a marginal figure who barely reached the sixth-level star standard.
And now, almost three months ahead of schedule, they have already reached the required mental strength standard for novice apprentices.
"What method did he use?" The surrounding chatter rose and fell.
But Ron noticed that Andrei's expression turned serious: "Something's not right."
"What do you mean?" Ron asked in a low voice.
"Look at his pupils." Andrei's expression was stern as he half-extended his arm to stop his friend beside him, slowly backing away.
"It's too disorganized, and..."
He pointed to Locke's hands, which were trembling slightly as he touched the crystal ball: "This could be a sign of mental energy going out of control."
Sure enough, amidst everyone's gasps of surprise, Locke suddenly clutched his head and let out a painful groan.
His once clear eyes became confused, and the corners of his mouth began to twitch uncontrollably.
"Oh no!" Andrei grabbed Ron and quickly retreated, shouting, "Get away from here..."
Before he could finish speaking, Locke suddenly let out a scream.
His eyes were bloodshot, and his mental energy fluctuations became violent.
The surrounding air seemed to freeze, and everyone felt a sense of suffocation.
"Judging from the symptoms, it should be a side effect of banned drugs." Andrei gritted his teeth and muttered, "This guy actually dared to try that kind of thing in order to improve his mental strength."
Ron noticed that the dark red mist inside the crystal ball suddenly thickened, and the symbols inside began to twist and deform, which was clearly not a good omen.
Just as everyone was retreating in anticipation of the situation, a white figure suddenly appeared in the center of the hall.
The surrounding apprentices immediately scattered like a tide, their eyes revealing undisguised fear and awe.
This instinctive fear is not without reason.
As the apex predator in the Black Mist Forest, formal wizards possess almost unchecked absolute power.
But more terrifying than power itself is the invisible oppressive feeling emanating from a formal wizard.
Ron had heard from Andre that when one's mental strength breaks through a certain threshold and reaches the standard of a formal wizard, the magic power in one's body will undergo a strange activation transformation, forming a special energy field called a "domain".
This "domain" continuously emits highly penetrating energy radiation, which even the wizard himself finds difficult to completely contain.
Although most wizards would use special means to keep this radiation to a minimum.
Even so, being within two meters of a formal wizard can still cause various uncomfortable symptoms in people with average physical condition—dizziness, nausea, fever, and over time, even signs of internal organ failure.
It is said that people with particularly weak constitutions may die within minutes from excessive radiation exposure.
This is why wizards always prefer to live alone and set up many restrictions on their residences, both to protect their privacy and research results, and to prevent unnecessary "accidental injuries or deaths".
Ron could feel that as the white-robed figure approached, the air seemed to thicken, and breathing became increasingly difficult.
He began to feel a strange stinging sensation on his skin, as if countless needles were gently pricking him.
This feeling was so obvious even from a distance of more than ten meters, let alone the apprentices who were forced to stay in closer positions.
Several of the apprentice candidates who were close to the white-robed wizard had turned pale, and one of them even began to bleed from his nostrils.
But no one dared to complain, and no one dared to leave without permission—in the eyes of the wizard, these could be seen as disrespectful, and the consequences were often unimaginable.
This is the deterrent power brought about by an absolute difference in strength.
The apprentices held the wizards in awe from the bottom of their hearts, not only because they feared their power, but also because each of them harbored a desire to become such a powerful being.
"Alright, if you can't stand it, then all of you should move away."
As the white-robed wizard's indifferent voice rang out, he waved his staff, and a silver halo spread out.
Everyone was forced back into a corner, leaving only the out-of-control Locke convulsing in the center.
"Interesting," the wizard guessed. "It seems he took a 'mental catalyst,' and at a dose far exceeding his tolerance limit."
As he spoke, he took out a crystal bottle from his robe, which contained a strange black liquid:
"This is a good opportunity to try out this new recipe."
Ron noticed that Andrei's face had turned extremely pale. As a well-informed person, he had obviously seen similar scenes before.
"Don't look, it will…" Andrei whispered, but Ron knew that this scene had to be remembered.
This is the world of wizards—the strong treat the weak as experimental subjects, and life and death are decided in a single thought.
A piercing scream interrupted Ron's thoughts. The bottle of black liquid had been forcibly poured into Locke's mouth by an unseen hand. His body began to convulse violently, and something seemed to be writhing under his skin.
The white-robed wizard raised his hand and clenched his fist, and a silver halo firmly bound the out-of-control Locke.
At this moment, Locke had completely lost his mind; his eyes trembled incessantly, and his pupils reflected some kind of ever-changing geometric pattern.
"Ah… classic 'nystagmus'." The white-robed wizard's voice remained calm: "This is the most common reaction when mortals glimpse a truth they shouldn't see."
He paced slowly beside Locke, like a researcher repeatedly observing a caged mouse:
"In that case, the 'psychic catalyst' being taken must be made from the eyeballs of mutated organisms."
Just then, a strange, twisting sensation suddenly surged beneath Locke's skin, as if something was writhing within his flesh.
His right arm began to swell, the skin cracked open, revealing writhing flesh.
"Flesh hyperplasia." The white-robed wizard chuckled. "That's rather rare; to be infected with two kinds of mutated contamination at once."
Ron endured his discomfort and continued to observe. He noticed that the white-robed wizard's eyes were also trembling slightly, a trace left by long-term exposure to occult knowledge.
Locke's screams gradually took on a non-human tone as his flesh and blood began to reorganize, forming bizarre, mutated limbs or organs, which then disintegrated.
"Stop looking, let's go back!" Andrei pulled Ron away, but those images were already deeply imprinted in his mind.
On the way back to the dormitory, Ron remained silent.
Those bizarre images kept flashing through his mind—the strange patterns in Locke's eyes, the writhing flesh, the distortion in the air.
What exactly happened? Why would taking drugs that enhance mental strength lead to such terrifying consequences?
"Andrei…" Ron finally couldn't help but ask, "Have you ever seen those symptoms before… nystagmus and flesh growth?"
The blond boy's face instantly turned extremely ugly: "Ron, this is not something you should be concerned about right now!"